The Client
by Death by Hiatus
Summary: BV AU When Bulma Briefs, an editor for a low town publishing company, is sued by an author because of his poor book sales, she is helpless. When that man turns up dead after her trial and Bulma's the main suspect, who will help?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Dragonball Z, any of its nouns (person, place, or thing remember), names, or ideas of storyline (i.e. relationships, etc.) This is the only time I will post this, because they are annoying as hell.

**A/N: **Second fic I'm starting, I know I should really stick to actually updating the other, but I had this fantastic idea for another story and I had to do it. I'm so evvvvvil. This story is a completely original idea, I haven't read or seen anything near this storyline, and so I'd rather say that I came up with it myself…but hey if you find other fics that are extremely similar point them out to me, because I'd love to see how alike I think to others. I guess I should give you a better plot summary than just the short bit before:

Bulma Briefs, 26, lives in a middle class apartment on the upper West section of Satan City, where most small business owners and workers live. She works as an editor at Timewise Publishing Company, editing books that she doesn't even think should be published, most all of them are extremely graphic and violent often involving women who remind her of herself. She has recently broken up with her boyfriend of three years, Yamcha (Does anyone know of a last name? I doubt it.) Bulma rethinks everything in her life and succumbs deeper into depression at how little she has achieved and how badly she wished her life would change. Her childhood was terrible and she managed to work herself up at the dream of becoming a magazine editor for WON (Women's Only Nation magazine), which is by far one of the best leading magazines in Japan, even if it's written for women. Before Bulma thinks her life can get any worse, she is sued by one of the author's of the books she edited, Pilaf Mai (I totally robbed Emperor Pilaf and his henchman and put them together…mwahahahaha.) He claims that she changed a part of his book and has "substantial" evidence to prove it. Bulma doesn't have the money for a good attorney while Pilaf has plenty and plans to take everything Bulma has for her "injustice to the world of literature." (I'm not going to tell you a lot of this…this is a long ass summary!) About 3 days after the case is over, Pilaf Mai is found dead in the back of his car and one blue hair is found at the scene of the crime. What will happen? Did Bulma do it? Will she go to prison? Am I asking far too many questions? Read on…

Yeahhhh, that's a long ass summary right there. I released a lot of important information about Bulma, not a lot about Vegeta, sorry, but you will read that in the story…it's not that difficult for him. So if you like the idea, read ahead, if you don't…ummm…may I point you in the direction of **Dark Hope Assassin**?

The Client

She stared out the window aimlessly. Her thoughts of late had centered on nothing. Her daily routines became just that, a reenactment of the previous, not a crème or sugar out of place. The recent break-up from her long-term boyfriend, Yamcha, has a remarkable effect on her. She remembered their last conversation at the local coffee shop around the corner from where her apartment was stationed. He brought her to a public place so she couldn't react as badly as she wanted to upon hearing exactly what he wanted to say. She always thought their relationship was…normal. Now that she thought of it, there was very little passion left, it was used up in the first 2 months and after that it was as if they figured they couldn't get anyone better. He explained to her that she was too boring, that he needed more excitement, an everyday adventure. She didn't know what to think, he certainly wasn't going to find that adventure in West Satan City. She had left the café and picked up two cases of wine before heading back to her apartment. He had given back the key he had and she waited until she got home before she threw it and watched it ricochet off the wall.

The week afterward she had drunk herself to sleep every night, gone through 6 boxes of tissues, and managed to be late to work with a hangover like hell each day. Her boss had approached her wondering when she was planning to get herself back into gear in spite of any loss she might have gone through. He is a sleaseball, as many say, but he hired her on the spot and shares the same hatred for the books he is forced to publish as well, which almost gives her a sense of admiration for the small bald man. She pulled herself together the second week after not receiving a single call from her ex-boyfriend. She realized that she would have to deal with this the harder way, facing reality without alcohol and tears. She never thought she would be the one that was dumped…in her mind it was always the other way around. She didn't think he was much of a thrill either, even the sex they had was insipid, he was a romantic during the beginning and it was like he gave up pathetically. He used to send her sunflowers to her office, even though she hated sunflowers; she appreciated the feeling behind it. She was always a small romantic for the simple rose and throughout her entire life she has never been given one from a member of the male species.

The rain cascaded across the gray plane she stared out of. She remembered choosing this apartment, one of the few who actually has a small view of North Satan City; she could see the lights now even though it wasn't officially dark yet. North Satan City was the grandest, busiest part of the city. The mayor's office, large companies like ImaTECH International, and all members of high-class society are a few of its perks. She didn't have nearly enough money to live even in East Satan City, which was the higher middle class section of the city, mainly filled with workers and families, paradise considering she lived in South Satan City for her entire childhood. She blinked her eyes and rubbed a cool hand over her mouth and sighed. She didn't want to remember it. She looked to the large round clock she had on the wall. _7:32 not late enough to sleep and not early enough to do anything before having to sleep for work in the morning..._

Usually at this time of night she would finish whatever work she couldn't in her small office, but she had given up one book in particular: Demonic Undertones. She didn't even know what in the hell the man was thinking when he titled it, but once she started reading she knew it had to actually possess _"demonic undertones"_ to have half of the content of the first chapter! She wasn't one with a strong stomach and most of the books she was paid to edit were disgusting. She never thought that she would be stuck doing this, being forced to read what no normal person would. Her dream had been to become one of the top editors in chief for WON magazine located in North Satan City. It was the top rated women's magazine in all of Japan and she had worked so hard to get an application for a future position in. Unfortunately, she never got a call from them. She knew that there were jobs out there, but women or men of higher caliber than she would take them all.

Bulma Briefs could not help that she was a community college graduate; she didn't have money and she certainly didn't come from it. She was proud to have graduated high school with her attendance record. She missed more school because of personal problems than sick days and her teachers pitied her and usually gave her an extra exam to give her at least a passing grade. She was accepted at South Central Satan Community College with a full-ride because of an outstanding admissions essay. She was aware that her diploma wasn't much, but it was a landslide from her past. She had tried to get jobs with higher pay, but the skeptical managers of every job she applied for questioned her motives because she came from South City, the land of drug-lords and prostitutes, funny that her parents were both. Krillin, her boss now, who begged her to call him by his first name as his last name was unmentionable, hired her because she told him the story of how many places she had been and had no luck, he was impressed by her honesty and holds her in the highest regard considering the rest of his employees are suck-ups. She smiled at how tiny her boss was and how often he used that to his advantage to sneak up on others to check on how they were working.

It certainly wasn't easy going through rejection after rejection and her most recent affected her far worse than any other had. She could get another job possibly, there was always fast food, but she didn't know whether she could attain another man. No one to even pretend that he loved her. _What's the point anyway, they're all douche-bags. Assholes._ The only way she met Yamcha was through one of those 5-minute Date-a-Thon's, that she was embarrassed to have to be a part of anyway. She had been on dates before, simple ones, usually out to lunch at a small café where the male only had to purchase a small coffee or two. Only then whenever they asked her where she was from did they start to question her receptively. It wasn't even about whether or not she was a prostitute, but if they could score drugs off her or if she had three children or if she had any STD's; they automatically assumed that she was pure trash. One man, Dennys, an Australian who had spent the majority of his life in Japan, whom she will never forget, even asked her how much. Just "How much?" She remembered slapping him and leaving the table, the best slap she had ever given a man. She was proud of that slap. It summed up her whole hatred of people who assume before they recognize the truth about anyone.

The phone rang. She reached on the table beside the window and picked the phone off the hook, rest it between her ear and her shoulder and answered. "Moshi Moshi." There was a sound of a bus hollering past in the background, footsteps of public scenery, she believed she heard fans screaming as well. _God I have to stop doing that._ There was a muffled response.

"Bulma? Bulma can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, um, it's me, Yamcha."

"I know."

"Wha-How? Eh, nevermind. Listen. …I just wanted to apologize…for what I said to you at the café. It…um. It wasn't true."

"What wasn't true? That you dumped me or that I'm boring?"

"Um. I lied. I don't know why, I guess it was because I thought you'd be angry with me or something, but—"

"Honestly, Yamcha, I couldn't hate you more right now if I tried."

"…Okay."

"…."

"Bulma, I signed a contract with the Bandits. They wanted me to start playing this season. I just, with all the money I'd be making—"

"You just thought about all the girls who'd come with it…"

"…Right. It's not as though what we had wasn't special to me, Bulma, it was. I just need more in my life, a new start, and I think that this can work for me."

"…."

"Are you alright with this?"

She sighed aggravatingly, "Of course I'm not alright, Yamcha. I've just been told that alongside of getting dumped because I'm 'bland' or whatever I'm not even fairly attractive enough for you to continue seeing me. Yep, Yamcha, I'm perfectly peachy with it."

"Great, anyway, why don't you watch our game, it starts in a half ho—" She was flabbergasted; he heard nothing she said but her last incredibly sarcastic lines. She hung up the phone. _What an asshole! _She turned back to the window and rested her forehead against it. Tonight she wouldn't drink and cry in her tub; she would drink and smash anything that reminded her of him in her apartment.

They always say alcohol brings out the worst in people.

* * *

**A/N: **Totally short beginning chapter I know, but whatever. The chapters will get longer as things go on. Um, this isn't going to be like Chapter 6 she finally gets sued, no she's getting sued next chapter. Because I have to bring in the characters, otherwise it's just Bulma…and her sad past life. Awwwww…tear. 


	2. Chapter 2

Reply to the reviewers: 

**Dark Hope Assassin: ** Haha, I was surprised I even got one comment and it was a great one! I'm glad you like my work. It makes me happy. Yeah, um about the summary, I totally wrote that at like 2 in the morning. It doesn't even make sense to me and I was the one who wrote it. I think I wrote it for myself more than anyone else anyway…so oh well, I decided to change some stuff too. I am obsessed with like directions…I don't know why I make the South part always like the worst part, I shouldn't do that, but it's always recognized as the worst part. God, I don't even know what to do with Vegeta, I don't know whether to make him like a complete asshole or just someone who's very determined to win. Ah, Veggie in a suit, very nice, _very nice _thought. I don't think crew of Nazi-story-removers could keep me from writing this story. Haha. (I try to keep them from removing it anyway) Don't worry girl, it will continue.

**Bex-chan:** I'm glad you agree! Thank you!

**Doma the Angel of Silence: **Wow! I rarely impress people! That review made me happy. Hopefully…I can still impress you.

**Author's Note: ** Um, I love **DHA** now more than ever for my first and LONGGG review. I really do appreciate it! Alrighty, so I guess I should just continue with the second chapter. If you guys can connect with Bulma in **ANY** way possible, tell me, because if you can't I'm not doing my job correctly. Every girl has felt completely alone and I don't think age has anything to do with it. Also, although it is customary in Japan to quote last names before first names, I don't do that because I figure most of the people reading these stories don't really care all that much. Oh yes, and the _$2.7 billion accounting fraud_ is Richard Scrushy, whom I hate because I live in Birmingham, Alabama and the asshole is totally guilty. Just another example of how the rich get off easy, I want you guys, who read this, to understand that for this story.

**The Client**

_"…Wear your coats this week as another cold front moves in. It won't be long before snow falls again. We're going to have a sunshiny day everyone, so pull on some shades and enjoy the sun! In local news, business tycoon Ryousuke Hishima was found not guilty yesterday morning on all charges in the $2.7 billion accounting fraud. His attorney, civil suit lawyer from Ouji & Son, Goku Son, presented a riveting speech at the success of the tri—"_

Bulma lazily fumbled for the alarm clock beside her bed and thankfully managed to press the large gray _SNOOZE_ button at the top. She never could understand why she kept her alarm on the radio rather than the default beeping._Anyone would rather listen to a human voice than that wretched noise in the morning…_The clock read 6:02am as her eyes peered above the pillow._Revert back to 8pm you piece of shit…_She didn't want to go to work. Not this morning. Not after knowing there would be plenty of glass to sweep up and Advil to down. She could almost hear her boss' voice in her head if she decided to sleep in yet again. She didn't understand why she had to be there at 7am, why anyone had to be _there_, of all places. _Why does anyone have to be anywhere?_ With a sigh she pushed herself up, only regretting it immensely as her head pounded her back down to the safety and health of the bed. She groaned in agony, but managed to get back up to face her day. "Today is going to suck." She decided as she slummed to her bathroom.

Making her way to the kitchen, she dodged a broken potted plant and snatched her CD player remote off the chair, and started it. She couldn't remember what she had been blasting last night during her drunken rampage, but she knew it had to be loud and depressing. The player plugged into life and started from where it was left,

_Un-break my heart  
__Say you'll love me again_  
_Un-do this hurt you caused--_

She pressed stop. "Yep." She pressed her palm to her forehead, trying to ease her headache. "Oh yeah, I was drunk." She didn't even remember buying that. She pressed for the second CD, hoping for something that would better fit her mood for the morning. And as Sarah McLachlan streamed through her speakers she nodded and continued to the kitchen for her much needed ibuprofen. Massaging her temples and reaching for a glass she noticed out of the corner of her eye a blinking red light. Her answering machine begged for her attention from the small office like desk it was placed on to the side of the island. _Who the hell would leave a message?_ No one she knew at least. _Maybe someone died._ She pushed that thought out of her head; she didn't have any friends or family. _Nice way of cheering yourself up…let's reminisce. _Thankfully she hadn't turned the music up annoyingly loud, otherwise she would have to walk into the direction that the remote could reach and turn it down just to hear one message. She pressed the lopsided triangle beside the flashing one and waited.

"_1 new message, recorded at 5.32am, Friday, November 11th…_

Hey, Bulma, it's me, Krillin, your boss. Um…I know, it's so early, but if you could make sure to come into work today, that would be great. There's something I have to talk with you about. Uh…we're in the shitter and I really don't know how to explain this on a machine. So just come to work.

_End of final message._"

Bulma gave a questioning glance at the black machine. _What could possibly be going on?_ She decided to take something to relieve her hangover as quickly as possible and make herself ready for whatever was to come.

* * *

As Bulma strolled down the largest aisle of _Timewise Publishing Company_, dressed in a pleasant blouse and black skirt, she noticed the bald bobbing head of her boss over a few cubicles. "Bulma, thank God. I left another message on your machine, Jesus Christ we're in the shitter." He started his tirade of incoherent nonsense as he rounded the corner. She perked an eyebrow at him. 

"What exactly is going on? Am I getting fired?" She asked, quickly hoping that her whole spill on fast food being an okay alternative wasn't about to come true. He simply walked past her, motioning with his hand for her to follow. Without dropping her purse off at her bland cubicle, she quickened her pace to keep up with him. It was a short while before they reached his office and even before the door had finished closing, Bulma lost her patience. "Are you going to tell me what in the fuck is going on or am I going to have to beat it out of you?" Any other employee in any other establishment would've lost their job before even finishing the word "fuck" in front of their corporate superior. Thankfully, Bulma was a different case.

The short man rubbed his hand over his clearly glossy head. "You remember that, uh, that book with the demon women eating little children or something?" Bulma felt like vomiting as the thought of editing that piece of sordid trash. She blinked and tried to respond without causing too much of a fuss over it.

"Yeah…yeah I do."

"Well the guy who wrote it, Pilaf Kai--"

"Mai, actually."

"Whatever." Krillin fumbled with his hands. "He's um…He's suing you for everything." Bulma stared at him, stunned silent, until she found her voice.

"W-what!" A clear ring of a scream sounded in her ears, waiting to be released.

"He claims that you like changed something in his book--" He reached across the front of his desk and grabbed the top manila envelope. Bulma snatched it from him, not aggressively, but in a confused rush, eager to understand the contents of what was happening. "It's all there, I found it on my desk this morning." He continued as she scanned over pages of small fonts, not being able to interpret any of the largest words for herself.

"They write this for fucking law students! What in the hell is suing me for? I didn't do anything!" Her voice hovered on tears, the lump in her throat growing ever rapidly. She flipped through page upon page until she found one that looked reasonable enough to read word-for-word. She mumbled the first couple of sentences. " '…Hereby proclaim that Bulma Briefs is to appear in front of a state judge on Monday, November 21st 2005, on charges of altering literacy documents of the prosecution, Pilaf--' I DIDN'T ALTER ANYTHING!" Her throat began to swell and her eyes blinked red. She sniffed before throwing the papers across the room. "Krillin…what am I going to do? I know well enough that cases like this don't have a jury. I don't have enough money for a lawyer – You'll testify for me won't you? You know I didn't change anything in his fucking book besides his own goddamn grammatical mistakes!"

"You know for a fact I would get up there on the stand and I would tell the truth, Bulma, but I don't even know if they let you have people testify. But I will help you find a lawyer, I promise you that, I have a lot of friends who know them, I'm sure we can find one."

"One who'd do it for like nothing? I doubt it!" Bulma clasped a hand to her mouth. "This isn't happening…I'm asleep. I'm still asleep…" Krillin couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't think of anything to _do_ to make this situation go away. For the first time in his life, he felt such unalloyed sympathy for this woman that stood shaking in front of him. He had given her a job because he was desperate. Everyone had quit on him; everyone had left the company for psychological reasons, but she never left. Even after having to see a psychiatrist for the severe depression she faced after editing only some of these books, she never quit on him. He admired her for that. If anyone else could see what he saw, if everyone could see the woman who pulled herself up from the streets, got herself the best education she could get, and worked her ass off to try and make something of herself…then she probably wouldn't be in this situation. Bulma had nearly fallen to the floor, before the shorter man caught her, stumbling backwards a bit before regaining his step.

"Bulma…" He gained his balance and helped her into a chair. "Whatever I can do to help you, I am going to try my best. Today, I think it's best if you took the day off. Maybe you can call a friend--"

"You're the only friend I have." That statement gave him both bliss and grief. _How can a beautiful girl like this not have any friends?_ He was her senior by 5 years, but even with that, he felt as if he was a father to her. Nothing romantic in the sense, at least…

"Well in that case, tonight, we'll go to Mali's on 3rd and we'll figure out this mess." Bulma grabbed her head and mouth again as another wave of head pain and nausea rolled over her.

"Great, another reason for me to drink myself to death."

* * *

The cheers roared throughout the spacious lobby of their North central office. Goku Son had made his entrance in smiling victory. The lobby was filled with many ivory-tower law graduates hoping to learn something from the infamous Ouji-Son duo. A match made in court heaven. Grinning with his briefcase by his side, he waltzed through the small crowd, hearing many compliments from many people. _God it feels great to win!_ Even if he hadn't believed his client, whom he definitely hadn't, he remained loyal and completed his job. Of course it didn't come without a little guilt trip, but didn't everything? He handled civil cases…and in that the majority of the defendants were guilty. His partner in law, Vegeta Ouji, was his complete opposite. He handled the criminal cases and proceedings, where every defendant claimed their innocence. Vegeta would defend them on how well he believes them, given certain evidence and such. Goku thought that the idea of not defending a client you have dedicated yourself to, because you didn't believe him or her was preposterous. That's not justice, it's simplemindedness, and it's greed. Though when the Ouji-lord of law found it in his heart to believe you, you won. Which is why a defense like his was so much. Goku's thoughts were broken by the ding of the elevator reaching the lobby. He entered with others, forcing his way to the back to stand beside a beautiful woman with shoulder-length black hair and sharp coal eyes. 

"I guess I should congratulate you on your win." She said and turned to face him. "But it was an easy case."

"How would you know, DC?" She flinched and fumed.

"I told you to never call me that, ever." And before clenching her fist, Goku raised his hands in sweet suggestion of his honest apology.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Didn't know it offended you so badly!" He placed a loopy smile on his face and tried to calm her down. The elevator stopped and a couple of members of the elevator-going-up club resigned. She tucked a piece of straight jet-black hair behind her ear.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Yeah, Divorce Court!" Her face faulted.

"…You mean…you've been calling me Divorce Court…all this time?" His facial expression was almost childlike in a way, as his eyes darted around in confusion.

"You're a Divorce Court lawyer, der. I didn't think I'd have to explain that to you." The woman slapped a hand to her mouth and stifled her laugh. It was rude to laugh at the stupidity of others, but he was really pushing the limit. _He really doesn't know he's been calling me "Dumb Cunt" this entire time?_

"Alright then, alright." Trying to not push the envelope further, otherwise she'd have a flat out laughing fit, possibly with side holding and shortness of breath. Neither was good for her health.

* * *

Agreeing to go home and sleep off the depression cloud that had roared into thunder and lightning, with a chance of high winds, Bulma finally reached home. Her tears were wasted along with $20 on the cab back to her apartment. Now dripping wet from the rain, _Goddamn fucker said it was going to be sun all day_, she made her way to her bathroom to rid herself of her clinging outfit and planned to take a long bath…and maybe to drown in it. 

She didn't know how old she was when she finally realized that her life was shit. Maybe she had realized it more than once and had simply forgotten for a brief nanosecond of her life. Like when she first got accepted into community college or when she first started dating Yamcha. She wanted to kick herself for her own idiocy. How could anyone--**ANYONE**--actually see her for anything else than South Central shit? No, she was lower than shit to everyone, she was the daughter of a prostitute and an unknown source. She was unloved, hated, and pitied by just about everyone that came into contact with her. She didn't want people to pity her; she wanted people to give her a chance, either out of desperation or actual acknowledgement. But she knew that was too much to hope for.

Her mother had never loved her that she knew. Her mother had married that…bastard and he had… Bulma pushed the thoughts from her mind. She didn't need to dwell on the past, especially that far back. She doesn't know her father. Her mother had given Bulma the last name Briefs because she believed that was what his last name was. She was never sober enough to know the difference. Bulma had never really asked about her father, she knew she had to look more like him than her mother, she knew that he must be one hell of a bastard to leave her, and she knew that his body is somewhere…either 6-feet-under or just up walking around. She had never asked her mother because…Bulma was an accident. A mistake._At least that's what mom always told me. Maybe I would've been better off if she had aborted me…Shit!_ She burned herself on the water that rushed through her rusty faucet in the bathtub. Sucking strongly on her right ring finger, subsiding the pain that comes before the numbness, she tried to regulate the temperate.

Once in the bath, she began to contemplate random things…suicide, homicide, possibly even serial homicide. She looked at her wrists. She couldn't cut them; even thinking about cutting them made her sick…She didn't want to die by electrocution or by a gun. She didn't want to jump off a building or hang herself. All of that could only lead to at least 5-10 seconds of sheer unadulterated agonizing pain, which isn't worth it. A bottle of pills is too risky…someone could find her and take her to a hospital, and then she'd be up shit creek without a paddle._It'd be just my luck that the time I take a bottle of pills is the time Tai intrudes for the rent check._ Tai always managed to find a way to barge into her apartment and ask for the rent check, mainly because it was always late, but that's still no excuse to barge in on someone. She sighed knowing full well she didn't have the courage to actually go through with a suicide…or even a homicide for that matter. Blood made her sick, she'd probably faint.

She pulled her hands up to cover her face. The steam rising off them provided a small sense of security while the threat of someone barging in on her naked body scared the shit out of her now. "Why is this happening to me? WHY? Haven't I gone through enough…haven't I worked hard enough? Is this a test or something?" She shouted at the ceiling not knowing if she were talking to God or Mrs. Satsuma, the deaf old woman who lives in the apartment above hers. Didn't really matter, she wouldn't get a response from either.

* * *

**Author's Note: **As long as it took for this chapter to come out…I'm glad it did. I gave you a little Goku/Chi-Chi jazz to spice up your life. DC stands for many things; personally, I've always found it to say "Dumb Cunt." So now you know a new insult and no one will know what you're saying! It's great. There's a lot of cursing…in this story. I'm a sailor when it comes to cursing and I figured Bulma would be a sailor. So…I got 3 reviews for the first chapter. I don't think this story is half-bad…but I guess it's people's tastes or something. I don't know. Kind of a depressing Bulma, I know. Oh well.

I'm really starting to hate this fucking Edit/Preview thing on here whenever I upload documents. Because I use Word and it only like fucks it all up, takes out everything that was italicized, makes my spaces ridiculously small...I'd really like to NOT have to do this everytime I upload a chapter, but if I don't and just post it, it looks like shit. So I have to go back and re-do everything! It's so irritating!

The more reviews the merrier!


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